Nadia grinned, knowing he didn’t believe a word of what he was saying, but thinking something had to make him recall the fable. “Did they marry and have children?” Perhaps their family was the haze over that part of the sky.
“No. Once she was in love, she was too distracted to weave for her father anymore. He got angry and separated the lovers by a heavenly river of stars, but his daughter was so heartbroken she cried more than she had before—no longer weaving at all.”
“Shame on him for interfering with love. Did her lover beg for the father’s approval?”
“No, a flock of magpies sympathized with her pain and made a bridge of wings for her to cross.”
Nadia smiled. “I think this isn’t a tragic story at all, but a story of how love knows no distance.”
“The magpies only came on the seventh night of the seventh month. It’s said that if it rains, they won’t come and she can’t cross. She has to wait the entire year again.”
The warmth in her chest dissipated and she scoffed. “Well then, I will hope it doesn’t rain so she can cross to her lover’s side and never return to her selfish father again.”
He chuckled. “I don’t think it works that way.”
Snapping her tongue against the back of her teeth, she rolled her eyes. “What do you know? You think shooting stars are rocks. I happen to know on good authority they’re wishes.”
“Good God.”
“Don’t laugh at me, Mr. Cynic. I make a wish every time I see one.”
“And how many have come true?”
“Oh, shut up, Elliot.”
They stared at the sky in silence, which was probably what they should have done from the start. As her eyes grew heavy, she thought about all the questions she had about their upcoming trip but didn’t want to disturb the tranquil moment.
The sky dulled with each sweep of her lashes and soon she was drifting off, dreaming of magpies and lovers reuniting under a blanket of stars. The brush of fingers down her cheek woke her and she shivered.
Elliot looked down at her, expression blank. “It’s getting late. We should go in.”
The air had chilled and she could no longer see the Milky Way. “What time is it?”
“Almost midnight.”
He’d sat out there all that time? How did someone tolerate so much silence?
She shifted and put her feet on the ground. He held out a hand and helped her stand, keeping their fingers clasped while they silently made their way back to the house. As they walked upstairs, he shut off lights. When they reached his door he let go of her hand and a physical emptiness took hold.
She couldn’t read him. He was either staring at her with too many secrets in his eyes or pushing her away. There had been two kisses, but both times he’d acted as if he regretted touching her. Maybe he did.
She also had regrets. Mainly, not meeting him sooner, before she threw so many pieces of herself away on men who turned out to be shallow and unkind. His quiet life and kind heart had a way of casting a blinding light on all of her mistakes and poor choices. She was attracted to him, yes, but more than anything she wanted him to be her friend.
“Do you not like me, Elliot?”
Sometimes they kissed, sometimes they held hands, but there was little clarity in between. She shouldn’t be so affectionate with him if he wasn’t interested in her as more than a friend.
He glanced at his bedroom door. “I like you.”
Then why did it seem to pain him to say so? “Is that as a friend or…?” Perhaps they were mere acquaintances, him helping another person out because he was simply kind and generous.
His brow tightened and he shifted closer to the door. “It’s whatever you want.”
“What does that mean, whatever I want? What do you want?”
He opened the door and she caught his arm.
“Elliot, wait. Tell me what you want.”
He grimaced and she braced for some unknown level of insult. “I don’t want to get hurt. You’re beautiful, Nadia, but beyond that, you’re thoughtful and caring and a very nice person.”
That hadn’t been what she was expecting. “You’re all those things, too, Elliot.”
“No,” he argued. “You aren’t seeing the real me. Whatever you see when you look at me, I assure you, no one else sees the same. I don’t think you really know who I am, and I’m worried that the more you get to know me, the less appealing I’ll be. So maybe it’s safer to just be friends.”
He was scared she’d be disappointed? In him? She worried about the same issue, that he might hate what he found if he got close to her. She couldn’t imagine what he had to hide, but she desperately wanted to understand him. “There are things you don’t know about me, too.”
He shook his head. “I’m not nice, Nadia. I’m intolerant and exacting. I get extremely impatient with social niceties and artificial bullshit. I don’t want to lead you to believe I’m someone else because I know for a fact I don’t have the tolerance to pretend to be anything other than the man I am.”
“Do you know what I think, Elliot? I think you’re everything I see, but other people see you from a different view. You’re like a starry night. Consistent. Quiet. Misunderstood at first glance. Like you said, same sky, different perspective. I see you. And I think you’re quite beautiful just the way you are. Maybe that will change, but I don’t know that it will. There’s nothing wrong with being who you are from where I’m standing.”
She brushed a kiss on his cheek. “Goodnight, Elliot.”
When she reached her door, she turned and found him standing where she left him, his hand touching his cheek where she’d pressed her kiss.
Chapter Ten
“No capes!”
~Edna
The Incredibles
By the end of Nadia’s last class on Friday night, the week had caught up with her. Once the last student was gone, she changed the music to her favorite playlist and went to use the bathroom. As she was washing her hands the bell rang and she shut off the faucet. Had someone forgotten something?
Creeping into the main studio she drew in a slow breath as Elliot appeared. “Elliot. What are you doing here?”
“It occurred to me you’d take a cab home and I figured why not do a favor to the environment.”
She loved that he passed his thoughtfulness off as practicality, loved that he’d thought about her even when she wasn’t with him. “You’re a terrible fibber.”
His mouth twitched. “Is everyone gone? I wasn’t sure what time you finished.”
He looked so handsome in his work clothes, which she was coming to discover were a part of his day-to-day wardrobe. Elliot’s attire was nostalgic of a time when men weren’t as wrinkled and blends were more than cotton.
His hands wedged deep in his pockets and his sleeves were rolled at the elbows. Today his tie was red, deep like rubies. This was as casual as he got, such a flagrant contrast to her in stretch pants and a tank top.
“My last class just left. Let me get my things.”
“Take your time.”
How nice to not have someone rushing her for a change. She gathered her bag and switched her jazz shoes for sneakers. When she returned to the main room he was lingering by the back window.
“I’m ready.”
“This is where we first met. I was standing right here, plotting my friend’s death.”
She laughed, recalling how uptight he’d been. It was no secret he hadn’t wanted to be there but was doing a favor for his friend that day. “Asher’s a very good dancer now. He and Lettie still take lessons on occasion.”
“How… How did Asher learn about you? There are a lot of dance studios in the area.”
That was a long time ago, so she had to think. “I think Steve hooked us up.”
“And you knew Steve before Asher?”
“Yes.” She shifted her bag on her shoulder. “Are you ready?”
He hesitated, his stare direct and holding her in place. “How did
you know Steve, Nadia? Was he an old friend or something?”
Her smile fell, a strange sense of self-preservation waking inside of her. “Why are you interested in that?”
He shrugged. “Just curious.”
No, that wasn’t a spontaneous question. He had a reason for asking and she wasn’t sure what he was hoping to find out. “Does it matter one way or the other?”
He glanced away, something people often did before distorting the truth. “No.”
The warmth that filled her when he arrived chilled. He was making some sort of judgment about her and she didn’t like it. “Steve and I met at the gym—the one he worked at before he bought his own. I used to teach Zumba classes there and he was a trainer.”
“Did you ever date each other?”
And there it was. This was exactly why her guard had gone up. “Do you have a problem with Steve?”
“I hardly know the man.”
“But you dislike him?”
“I didn’t say that.”
She frowned. Elliot was usually direct and didn’t do well at beating around the bush.
“Then why don’t you say what it is you mean to say, instead of asking all these roundabout questions? You want to know if Steve and I slept together, is that it?”
He broke eye contact but didn’t object to hearing the truth. Her throat tightened as a sharp bite of unexpected shame inched into her chest.
Blinking, she stared at him and confessed, “We went on a few dates, but he never made it to my bed. Are you satisfied?” Why was she suddenly on the brink of tears?
Sensing her upset, he returned his gaze to her face. “Nadia, I’m sorry—”
“What do you want, Elliot?” she snapped, flustered by her doubts about things from so long ago—things that meant nothing and hadn’t even been the worst of her past. “Do you want me to tell you I’ve never been with another man? I can’t.”
“I know that. I don’t care.”
“Then why this sudden obsession with a man who asked me out when I was eighteen?”
“You were eighteen?”
“Yes! What does it matter?”
He shook his head. “It doesn’t. I’m sorry. I don’t know why it was bothering me. Asher said you two used to date and—”
“Asher?” She threw up her hands. “What does Asher know? He was only a student of mine.”
“I know that. That’s why I figured I’d ask you directly, but I didn’t do it to upset you.”
It was none of his business, but she also didn’t want to lie to him. She wanted him to know who she really was but still feared the truth might scare him away. This was going too fast. They hadn’t even clarified what they were to each other. At the moment, they were friends who shared a few awkward kisses and an address.
Pressing her lips tight, she glared at the ceiling, refusing to cry over nothing. “Why do you care who I dated? The truth, Elliot.”
His jaw twitched and he glanced away. “It … pissed me off. I don’t know the other men, but I know Steve. When Asher said you might have dated, I couldn’t stop picturing it. I couldn’t get it out of my head. I wanted to hit the guy, but I can’t because he’s three times my size.”
Her anger subsided as she blinked at him, his words slowly sinking in. “You’re jealous.”
“No.” He shook his head. “I don’t get jealous.”
“Oh?” She lifted her brow. Everything he just described sounded like jealousy.
Stepping closer to him, she tugged his tie. “It seems a strong reaction, is all.”
He caught her hand and held it in his large fingers. “I have a vivid imagination—”
“I bet you do.”
“—and sometimes it gets away from me.”
“What is it you imagine—about me—Elliot?”
His Adam’s apple made a slow dip as he swallowed. “Your door was unlocked. You should have something more than a bell to let you know someone’s in the studio.”
She laughed, the abrupt change of topic jockeying her away from what was important. “What is that, a trick you do? You don’t want to answer the question so you just start talking about something else?”
“I don’t have an answer to your question.”
“Hmm.” Sliding her hand out of his grip she stepped back. “Well, I’m still curious, so when you figure it out, let me know.” Walking to the wall, she flipped off the switch, leaving him standing in the dark.
She jingled her keys. “I’m going to lock the door now. Don’t want any dangerous burglars sneaking in.”
He followed. “I’m serious about the lock. It’s late and this isn’t the best area.”
“This is a fine area. Don’t be a snob, Elliot. Besides, dance studios don’t have anything to steal.” They took the steps and she locked up. “There. Safe and sound.”
“I wasn’t worried about your belongings. I was worried about you.”
Her smile faltered, surprised to hear him admit such a personal concern for her safety. “Oh.”
This was just another example of the nice man he was and her reading too deeply into his character. It wasn’t necessarily about her. To put him at ease, she said, “I know self-defense and keep pepper spray with me.”
This didn’t seem to appease him. “You should have cameras and a buzzer to let people in and out.”
“It’s not my building. I take what the landlord gives me. Come on, it’s chilly.”
She wasn’t going to debate the security of her studio. She had the best she could afford. Not everyone lived in a space house with fancy alarm systems like he did. Besides, she hadn’t had any problems since renting there.
“Did you eat?” he asked as he backed out of the parking lot.
“No.”
“Do you want to stop somewhere?”
“Like Burger King?”
“I was thinking something a little nicer.”
“I’m wearing sweaty clothes and sneakers.”
Briefly taking his eyes off the road, he glanced at her. “I think you look nice.”
“Says the man in a dress shirt and tie.”
“Trust me, you could wear a sack and I’d still be the inappropriate factor in the equation. Let’s stop and have dinner. We’ll go someplace small and quiet.”
She sighed. “Fine. But you have to take off your tie and un-tuck your shirt.”
“What?”
“Either that or I’m not going. I look like a slob.”
His fingers noticeably tightened on the wheel. “Fine.”
When they arrived at the restaurant, a little corner place with outdoor seating and Italian cuisine, Elliot stood at the car door and loosened his tie. After unclasping the top button of his shirt, he frowned at his hips.
“My shirttails will be wrinkled. Can’t this be enough?”
She laughed at how uncomfortable the idea of wrinkles made him. “Fine.”
Untwisting the clip in her hair, she flipped her head over and shook out her waves, hoping to hide the fact that she was in an old tank top with a bleach stain on the side.
Flipping back, she paused as she caught him staring. “What?”
His eyes were wide behind his glasses. “Nothing.” He shook his head and looked away.
He took her hand and escorted her into the restaurant. The smell of delicious pasta cranked up her hunger. The hostess greeted them, and before Nadia could manage a word, Elliot asked for a private table in the back. They were escorted to the rear of the restaurant, far away from all other patrons.
“Do they know you here?” He seemed to have some pull.
“No, but if you make a direct request people don’t often tell you no.”
She raised a brow. “I’ll have to remember that trick.”
For as gentle as he was, he had a knack for being equally commanding. His clout was subtle but undeniable. She wondered if he even realized the influence he held over others. He wore authority very well.
As they perused the menu, she stru
ggled to decide what she should eat. “What will you order?”
“Probably just penne. You?”
“I can’t make up my mind. My mouth’s watering over the thought of steak, but I don’t know if I feel like being a meat eater tonight.” She gave him a flirty smirk and batted her lashes. “Should I pretend we’re on a date and act like I have a dainty little appetite to impress you?” Really, she was just fishing to see if this counted as a date.
“Why would you base your dinner on our circumstances? If you’re hungry, eat.”
She shrugged. “Women do all kinds of silly things to get a man’s attention. For instance, they might play footsie under the table.”
She brushed her foot against his and scrunched her nose when the rubber sole of her shoe snagged against the soft fabric of his pants. “Sorry. I don’t usually wear sneakers on a date. Is this a date, Elliot?”
His gaze lowered as he straightened his silverware. “I suppose that depends on how you define the term.”
“No, no.” She waved a finger at him. “No fancy smart talk. Is. This. A. Date? I’m being direct, so you have to give me an answer.”
Meeting her gaze, his nostrils flared as he drew in a slow breath. “Yes. It’s a date.”
Playing off her relief, she opened her menu again. A slow heat bloomed in her belly as she inwardly celebrated. “Good. I’ll have a Cobb salad.”
The waitress arrived and took their drink orders. “Do you need a few more minutes to decide?”
Elliot, again, spoke before she needed to. “No, we’re ready. I’ll have the penne in the vodka sauce and my date will have a Cobb salad with the filet mignon.”
Her eyes went wide, that was not what she planned to order.
“How would you like that cooked?” the waitress asked and he looked at her.
“Um … rare, please.” Once they were alone she gave Elliot a pointed look. “I said salad.”
“I don’t expect my date to starve herself for my benefit. You said you were in the mood for steak, so I ordered you exactly what you wanted. End of story.”
Untied: A Mastermind Novel Page 10
